


Intimate Interlude

by methylviolet10b



Series: Intimate [3]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M, Nearly Plotless Smut, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 19:11:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1994559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sudden change in the weather requires a change in plans. Written for JWP #20.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intimate Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Nearly plotless SMUT following Intimate Acquaintance and Intimate Observations. And absolutely no beta. This was written in a complete rush. You have been warned.
> 
> JWP #20: A sudden change in the weather. Use this however it inspires you.

“Damn and blast!”  
  
Holmes paced the floor of our hotel room like a lion paces in a cage: infuriated by his confinement.  Just as an iron cage affronts the very nature of the noble king of the beasts, the well-appointed room in the lavish hotel was anathema to a detective on his way to an interesting case. Unfortunately, a sudden change of weather had blanketed the seaside town in the most impenetrable fog.  No boat dared venture out of port. We would have to wait for the fog to lift before we could continue on to meet our client.  
  
Knowing the logic of this, and being satisfied with it, were two entirely different things for the mercurial man who had recently become my lover. I loved Holmes with wholehearted devotion, although I knew he did not feel the same way about me in return. I was his trusted companion, and a safe companion in his newfound exploration of the pleasures of the flesh. He was an astonishingly thoughtful lover for one so new to the sport, determined to learn everything he could in order to give me as much pleasure as he said I brought him. He would accept nothing less than excellence from himself in the sexual arena, as in any other of his fields of mastery. I had little doubt that he would soon equal me in the physical aspects of the acts he enjoyed most, and probably surpass me soon after that.  
  
But Sherlock Holmes was not a romantic. He was deeply loyal, but he scoffed at the softer emotions. I hoped that in this case, his own biases might blind his normally all-seeing eyes to the reality of my emotions, or at least the full strength of them.  
  
That was a worry for another day. For now, I was ill-inclined to watch Holmes whip himself into a frenzy of frustrated nerves, particularly before the case truly began. And thanks to my friend having been a virgin before we became lovers, and his single-minded pursuit of the intricacies of intercourse, there was a particular act that I knew he had never experienced.  
  
I knew better than to try and interrupt Holmes with words. Instead, I rose from my chair and walked to the door. The sound of the latch being turned caught his attention, as I guessed it would, even before I slid the bolt into place, ensuring our privacy. By the time I turned to face him, he had stilled, and his attention was fixed on me. I even thought his eyes looked slightly widened.  
  
“Watson,” he started. “I hardly think this is the - ” The rest of his words were lost in a slight gasp as I crossed the few steps between us and gently placed one hand on the front of his trousers.  
  
“We cannot leave until this fog lifts, which will not be for many hours yet,” I murmured. “In the meantime, there are far better uses of our time than worrying over circumstances beyond our control. So right now I want you to focus all your attention on the one thing you can control. Keeping silent.” And without further ado, I slid to my knees before him.  
  
I half-feared that Holmes would object, would rebut my advances; but I also knew that he was as aware as I was that there was no way we could travel onwards, and hoped his curiosity, and his love of novelty, would win out over his irritation. When one hand slid into my hair and softly caressed the skin above my ear, I knew I had succeeded, even before I felt the growing firmness beneath my hand.  
  
I made quick work of his flies, and in a matter of moments coaxed his half-filled shaft free of the confining cloth. It was still malleable, rapidly gaining a rosy flush as blood swelled its length and girth. I lost no time in drawing it into my mouth.  
  
A much louder gasp escaped Holmes, one I felt as much as heard. I looked up and saw his eyes riveted on my face. His pupils were dilated, and widened further as I met his gaze with mine. He thickened noticeably in my mouth even as he tilted back slightly at the waist, the better to see what was before him. I could easily imagine the erotic intensity of the sight, my eyes twinkling at him, my lips wrapped firmly around his member, the tips of the crisp dark hair of his groin just barely mingling with those of my moustache. As I watched, Holmes drew a long breath through his nose, then deliberately bit his lip.  
  
Challenge accepted, then.  
  
I laved him with my tongue for a while, exploring the taste and texture as he lengthened further, the feel of his foreskin sliding away from the head of his swelling cockstand. Soon I had to ease back slightly or risk choking. I changed tactics at that point and started sucking gently. He did not cry out, but I felt the effort it cost him not to give voice to the sensations flooding through him. His legs quivered with the strain of holding still, holding silent. When I started to move my head, bobbing up and down as I eased him in and out of my mouth, he could no longer hold back. A faint, stifled groan reached my ears, and when I glanced up again, I saw Holmes bring his hand to his mouth in an effort to hold back any further noise.  
  
That was the moment I chose to take him in fully, carefully opening my throat and drawing him in as far as I could.  
  
A shudder passed through his frame, and his hips bucked slightly, driving him even deeper into my willing mouth. I had expected it, and managed to accommodate him, although it challenged me to my limits. It had been a long time indeed since I had done such a thing, and while I remembered the knack of how not to choke, how to time my breaths, it was difficult – particularly as I was now as hard as a rock and longing for my own release. I ignored it as best as I could and kept moving, alternating suction with caresses with my tongue. His tremors increased. The caress of his hand on my hair turned into an eye-watering grip. I tasted the change in my mouth, felt the tell-tale extra thickening just as Holmes keened, almost but not quite silently, and came forcefully. I swallowed around him and was rewarded by a second, choked-off, almost inaudible cry as he continued to spend.  
  
At last the pulses faded. I used one hand to steady Holmes as I carefully sucked him clean before letting him slide from my lips. I tucked him back into his trousers and re-did his flies with trembling hands. I was still unbearably hard and afraid I might come in my pants if I moved too quickly. At last I looked up again at Holmes, to be met with the most extraordinary sight.  
  
Holmes’ eyes were still dilated, leaving only a sliver of grey iris visible. He stared at me as if I was the most extraordinary thing he’d ever seen. More remarkably still, a small but unmistakably blissful smile transformed his features.  
  
He was also almost completely incapable of remaining standing. I stood up and managed to guide us both to one of the velvet-covered chairs. Holmes’ eyes closed as soon as he was ensconced in its depths, but the look of bliss remained. That was all I could stand. Perched on the generous arm-rest, I hastily withdrew my handkerchief, opened my own flies, and took myself in hand, fabric ready. It only took a few strokes before I achieved my release, spending into the cloth.  
  
At some point my eyes fell closed. When I opened them again, I found Holmes gazing at me thoughtfully. “I wanted to do that,” he remarked, his words slower and softer than his usual wont.  
  
I wadded up the now thoroughly-stained handkerchief. “You are more than welcome to do so the next time.”  
  
“Indeed, I will.” His expression changed, growing more thoughtful, and a trifle stern. “This was a marvelous idea, Watson, but only under these circumstances. This cannot happen when I am actively engaged on a case.”  
  
I shook my head. “I would never dream of it, Holmes.”  
  
The sternness faded, but the thoughtfulness remained, and even deepened. “No, you wouldn’t, would you?” To my surprise, he leaned up out of the depths of the chair and kissed me tenderly on the lips. “My dearest Watson,” he breathed as he broke the kiss. “What a treasure you are.”  
  
I felt a warm glow entirely apart from my recent climax. Such praise was rare, and the softness in which he spoke the words was almost unprecedented. True, it might merely be the result of his recent orgasm, but I could imagine the lover in his simple statement, not merely the curious intellectual. I returned his kiss with interest, and felt his lips curve against my own.


End file.
